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What sort of woman would do that—give up her life so easily, sacrificing her freedom for her father’s? The Beast wondered if he was capable of such a sacrifice. He wondered if he was capable of love.
His terrible deeds were engraved on his face, and that sent a hollow, wretched feeling deep into his gut, sickening him.
They were holding a mirror up to the monster within, which was longing to escape.
The only indication of what he had once been was his soulful blue eyes, which teemed with humanity.
